


The Jewel of the Kingdom

by vindice



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: (past — see notes for more on that), Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, BIAT New Years Gift Exchange, Bodyguard Bakura, Demigods, Functional Bakura, Implied/Referenced Regicide, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Prince Ryou, just saying, this is what Bakura would've been like if genocide didn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice
Summary: Ryou has learned two important things out of this experience.The first is never smile at attractive people, lest you wake up one day and find yourself kidnapped by them, with part of your powers temporarily bound.The second is a little more tricky, but it’s pretty much easy to summarize.“My sister is paying you to keep me captive?” Ryou repeats, way less incredulous than he should be.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: BIAT_Exchanges





	The Jewel of the Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawkewyrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkewyrd/gifts).



> Rain, my dear!!! I’m super excited to inform you I am your secret gifter \\(*´∇｀*)／
> 
> your prompt was:  
> AU where Ryou is a prince, and Bakura a thief who kidnaps him for ransom — but after finally getting a taste of freedom, Ryou doesn’t want to go back.
> 
> I took some liberties, but I hope you still like it. Crossovers make me so happy!! You don’t need to know Percy Jackson for it to make sense. Just know that they are demigods and have certain abilities. I added a little Vocab at the end notes so you can check some terms. There’s also a list of Demigods there!
> 
> (I spiced things up a bit and made Amane Bakura’s baby sister here, while Kisara is Ryou’s elder sister.)
> 
> There is no specific era so you can just imagine whatever you want! There is no technology where it’s set though.
> 
>  **About the Non-Con tag:**  
>  It’s a quick recount of events, a few scenes before the end. We don’t get too much into it, but Ryou confides part of the story to a character that is helping him get some sense of closure.
> 
> While it is very quick and never explicitly states anything further, it’s still there and—in my opinion—very obvious to see where that could have gone.
> 
> It’s easy to skip if you don’t wanna read it: it starts at “ _You think this is rather abrupt,_ ” and ends just before “ _You’re gonna be the most stylish prince this kingdom has seen_.”
> 
> So, without further ado, here’s these two!

Ryou wakes up in a bed. 

This wouldn’t be so bad, if it were _his_ bed.

As it stands, by the angle of the sunlight warming his skin—full force on his face much to his chagrin—he’s nowhere near his chambers at all, or any other place he’s fallen asleep at in the palace. And Ryou has fallen asleep in a _lot_ of places around the palace.

He keeps his breathing even and his eyes closed as he takes stock. He’s unbound, but his limbs feel heavy and he has a headache. The last he remembers is having sneaked out to the market to spend time with his people as he pretended, just for a few hours, that he was not exactly who he was. Then, nothing.

 _No_ , he thinks groggily. _That’s not true._

  
.o.O.o.

  
“The usual?”

Ryou offered a most charming smile under his hood, which was returned by the merchants. They were a sweet elderly couple that sold fruit and Ryou had been frequenting for a while now, always making a point to drop by whenever he could shake off the King’s ironclad grip enough to sneak out.

Which wasn’t as often as he would like, but he made do with what he had.

Ryou was sure they knew who he was—there was only one line with pure white hair in the kingdom, after all—but they had never said a word about it, and Ryou loved them for that.

“Enjoy your day, son.”

Ryou bowed his head in thanks before setting a small bag of golden coins in their hands, leaving before they could barter with him for giving them more than the apples cost.

He wandered along the streets, interest occasionally picked by this or that, but mostly enjoying his kingdom.

It was gorgeous. Ryou often felt a pang of longing because of what he couldn’t have, but he quickly squashed that yearning, soothing the ache thinking about how it would not be like that forever.

One day, Kisara would be crowned, and they would live without fearing retribution from the King.

With that in mind once again, Ryou smiled softly and forced himself to ease his shoulders. It was while on a jewelry stall that he heard the distinctive sound of metal clinking against metal, and he didn’t need to look up to know his time was up.

“And that’s my cue,” Ryou grinned at the young girl in front of him, handing her a stack of coins without taking the necklace he had been inspecting and disappearing into the crowd.

Ryou expertly avoided the royal guard, diving into a side alley when they got too close for comfort. He could always slip in a dark corner and shadow travel away, but Ryou didn’t actually want to leave, he just wanted to shake them off his trail.

He shared quiet laughter with the giggling children that had already been there, and decided to wait for a bit, getting comfortable behind some barrels. Ryou took a bit of pleasure in the fact that if the King could see him right now, he would immediately sneer, but if his sister did, she would absolutely sit down next to him.

The kids played up and down the alleyway, and Ryou took the opportunity to look around. He gave the only other adult present—who he assumed was the one looking after the kids—a friendly nod. They answered in kind, staring at Ryou for a moment when a mild wind flew his hood off, leaving his hair exposed. His companion blinked, but they went back to watching the kids so Ryou relaxed.

At some point they called out for one of the children. Ryou didn’t pay them much attention—partly because he was on the other side of the alley, partly because it was none of his business. They said something into the kid’s ear and the child ran out of the alley.

Minutes passed. Just as Ryou began to consider leaving, the kid returned, but not alone: in came a very handsome man with sun-kissed skin, short silver hair, and a scarred face that didn’t make him any less attractive.

Ryou appreciated the sight before finally standing up to leave. The guard was long gone by now, and he still had places to be and friendly merchants to see before his scarce hours of freedom ran out. 

But before that, he beckoned the children with a finger and plopped juicy apples in each plump little hand when they came close after their adult companion gave them the okay. With a wink at his temporary friend and a dazzling smile at the newcomer, Ryou pulled up his hood before slipping into a passing group of people.

Except he didn’t, because before Ryou could even step out of the alley, there was a pinprick on the side of his neck, and after a beat, his world tilted sideways.

Someone caught him, of that Ryou is sure, because the last thing he saw was a glimpse of red cloth before everything went black.

.o.O.o.

Ryou groans at the pounding of his head. He touches the side of his neck, feeling confused at only finding smooth skin and not a hint of swelling. He opens his eyes slowly, only to stare at the unfamiliar ceiling that is most certainly not his own, confirming his suspicions all at once.

At least he was kidnapped while the guards were out looking for him. He’s not keen on finding out the King’s reaction, but Ryou is vicious enough to enjoy the thought: the squads the King sends after him are always made up of his minions, too paranoid of those loyal to the Queen-to-be to let his precious leverage slip from under his thumb. To be kidnapped under their care, given the fact that they had already been looking for him, means bad news for the King’s lackeys.

More importantly, it leaves Kisara in good light before the council.

Ryou’s brought out of his musings when the sound of a door opening registers his ears, and he breathes before turning towards it. The movement combined with the sunlight makes his head pound even harder and another quiet groan escapes his mouth.

“Oh,” a deep voice says, and before he knows it the room is casted into shadows, much to Ryou’s relief.

He opens the eyes he hadn’t even noticed closing only to meet a, if slightly new, still familiar face.

A familiar face with crimson eyes, sun-kissed skin, and short silver hair.

Well.

* * *

A freak out, some thrown objects, and a quick explanation as to why his powers aren’t working later, Ryou has learned two important things out of this experience.

The first is never smile at attractive people, lest you wake up one day and find yourself kidnapped by them, with part of your powers temporarily bound.

The second is a little more tricky, but it’s pretty much easy to summarize.

“My sister is paying you to keep me captive?” Ryou repeats, way less incredulous than he should be.

“ _Will_ ,” Ryou’s kidnapper—Bakura, as he’s come to learn—corrects. “The Queen’s only given me a part of what she’s promised.”

Ryou stares at him dubiously.

“And I’m not keeping you captive,” Bakura scoffs. “I’m keeping The Jewel of the Kingdom safe, even if you’re making it feel like you’re a hostage.”

Any other time and Ryou would flinch at the title. But there’s something in the way Bakura says it—like it’s not a big deal, but at the same time, like it means something entirely different than what the name entails.

It's almost like when Kisara calls Ryou her ‘little gem’ even if there’s a frown on Bakura’s expression and his inflection is nowhere as warm. But his hooded eyes are only slightly annoyed, and way less angry than one would expect from someone who stalks into alleyways filled with kids wearing irritated scowls. He’s also being way more patient with him than Ryou deserves after accidentally breaking a glass of water on his foot.

He focuses on Bakura’s words: he doesn’t say anything about the Queen’s comment because in his heart she’s always been. He politely doesn’t point out how right he is about Ryou being a hostage, either, and how this feels nothing like it even if he phrased it like that earlier.

Bakura doesn’t need to know about that.

Instead he settles for, “But why would Kisara do that?”

Bakura huffs and raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s _your_ sister. Why do you think so?”

Ryou thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it. About their interactions in the past few days, the last few weeks. About the expression on his sister’s face each time the King beckoned him to sit by his side at mealtimes. How her eyes would always follow him when he left the room, and how she would visit him before each ball he was kept hidden from.

The way her worried look slowly melted into something equal parts soft and fierce over the past month, and how she clutched his hand and smiled warmly the morning before he sneaked out to the market—like she knew they wouldn’t see each other for a while and wanted to leave them both with a good memory.

It’s a bittersweet realization.

Ryou knew this day would come: when change arrived. But he always thought he would be there, standing right beside her, shoulder to shoulder. He never thought Kisara would send him away, even if all the hints were there.

Of course his sister would send him away. Not because he was The Jewel of the Kingdom—Kisara has never seen him as a means to an end—but because he’s at the very center of it all, and Kisara needed to extract him, both to keep him safe and to ensure their victory should the need arise for Ryou to take over the kingdom in her stead.

On the surface, it’s a tactical move. But Ryou knows his sister, and he knows the truth: Kisara sent him away because she loved him. And not only that—she sent him somewhere he _could_ be protected.

“Oh,” Ryou says, something warm filling his insides even as his stomach falls at the implications.

Bakura studies him with a stony expression before his eyes soften. Ryou doesn’t know what he sees when he looks at him, but he thinks it’s safe to assume that whatever it is, is the reason why Bakura accepted this job at all.

“Yeah,” Bakura says quietly. “Oh.”

Who is he? Where are they?

Bakura’s lips press into a thin line. He sighs.

“I’ll answer whatever I can,” he raises a hand to stop Ryou from talking when he opens his mouth. “ _When_ we have lunch. That’s why I came, actually. And to check if you were still alive.”

Ryou glares at him.

Apparently that’s a more acceptable reaction than sadness because Bakura grins.

“Now get up,” Bakura says, standing up himself. He walks over to the door. “Your cloak is in the wardrobe over there, and there’s clean clothes in the drawers. I’m sure you’ll wanna change to something fresh. I’ll be waiting in the hall.”

He looks over his shoulder and stares at Ryou petulantly. “And hurry up. I’m not responsible for you getting hungry after I’ve informed you.”

Ryou scoffs, but does as told.

* * *

“What do you wanna know?”

Bakura looks like he would rather eat glass than do this, but Ryou only tacks it to his quirky personality.

It’s just the two of them at the moment, having been informed that everyone was out doing this or that.

Ryou munches on a bacon strip. “How do you know my sister?”

Bakura studies him carefully, like he wants to give Ryou a proper answer.

“I’ve worked for her before,” Bakura finally settles for.

Ryou frowns. “Are you her assassin?”

Bakura chuckles at that. “All children of the gods turn into killers at some point, Princeling.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

The voiced one, at least. He mentally runs through the list of demigod traits he’s gathered over the years from the Kaiba Library to find a match, now that that’s been established.

Bakura rolls his eyes. “No, I am not her assassin. Though I do know the bastard.”

Ryou raises his eyebrows and files that information for later, in case it comes in handy.

“What are you?” Ryou asks.

“A multitasker,” Bakura says with a proud grin, and Ryou smiles. Bakura somehow manages to make it a humble boast. However that works.

“Ah,” Ryou nods in understanding. A child of Hermes. Possibly Apollo, though he’s leaning more towards the first one.

Ryou dips his toast in sour cream, and then he serves on his plate more of the same to double dip his bread in after finding out how good it tastes.

“You don’t act like a prince,” Bakura announces. He’s been watching Ryou this whole time.

Ryou laughs. “How _does_ a prince act?”

Bakura shrugs. “Arrogant. Prissy. Like the world is ending because his sister sent him away when she’s planning to overthrow the reigning monarch.”

Ryou smiles. He leans forward against the table, teasingly, “For a child of Hermes, you have a lot of prejudices.”

Bakura looks at him appraisingly. “What gave it away?”

Ryou smiles with all his teeth, like his mama used to do when she and mom ganged up on his dad before Ryou was born, like his mom still does to his dad in Ryou’s Dreams.

“You have the posture of someone who cares little for what others think about them,” Ryou begins. “Your hands are calloused, so you’re good with weapons. Nothing surprising there,” after all, every demigod learns how to defend themselves at some point, no matter who they are.

The King always forbid Ryou from doing so, but thanks to Seto he learnt alongside Mokuba whenever they visited the neighboring kingdom. 

“It’s mostly your index and thumbs,” Ryou says, “which means it’s not a leveled sword, but something smaller, with more pressure. Knives, if the hilt on your waistband is anything to go by.”

“That doesn’t imply anything about who my godly parent is, though,” Bakura points out, but the beginnings of a smile are there, in the corners of his mouth.

“No, but the caduceus ingrained into it does,” Ryou shoots back. “Besides, I am not done yet.” He chides.

Bakura raises his hands, now grinning. “What else?”

“Well, you’re wearing at least two hairpins. Which means clauditiskinesis if you’re so adept at lock picking that you only need the bare minimum.”

Bakura laughs. “Claudi-what?”

Ryou stares at him for a moment, then joins in laughing when he remembers not everyone learns the textbook definitions and names of their abilities.

“Children of Hermes can magically sense the internal structure and mechanisms of any lock they touch.” Ryou recites. “They are able to make it unlock, even telekinetically,” he says eagerly. Then he adds, “It doesn't work on cursed locks, though.” And then, “They also have this kind of Lock Intuition, where they can identify curses and traps placed on locks. If they concentrate hard enough and if the lock isn’t cursed, they can deactivate the traps too.”

Bakura whistles. “Sounds about right.”

But he’s not done yet.

“Hermes is also the god of travelers, a very hospitable lord,” Ryou says, as if an afterthought. He looks at Bakura appreciatively, “Though not all his children inherit his generosity.”

Bakura huffs. His hair is held back with the hairpins so he can eat unbothered, and Ryou thinks he can see the tips of his ears redden.

Ryou smiles down at his plate.

* * *

In the outskirts of the kingdom, there’s a small merchant village called Kul Elna.

Ryou has been taken there because it’s as far away from the capital as possible, but still within the borders as to not make it more of an international affair than it already will be if things go south.

Ryou has never questioned his sister’s competence, but he _knows_ Seto won’t leave Kisara alone. And he’s endlessly grateful for that, but as meticulous and swift as they both are, Seto is still the neighboring Crown Prince.

People may not know Ryou beyond the Reclusive Prince title he won after his mama died, but the moment his moniker gets out, if it does, there will be problems. The last thing they need is Seto being accused of treason for having a connection to the theft of the Jewel of the Kingdom, and having a full-on war between the allied kingdoms start.

“Are there many demigods down here?”

“Quite a bit, yeah,” Bakura says as he chews his food. Ryou scrunches his nose, but doesn’t say anything out of politeness. Bakura seems amused by Ryou’s reaction.

He tells Ryou most demigods are distributed around the village, and only those closer to Bakura live in the house even if all of them are welcome there. Which makes sense, from the various doors Ryou saw on their way to the kitchen.

“You’ll eventually get to meet them,” Bakura tells him. He rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna be here for a while, and they’re too nosy not to show up.”

Ryou nods slowly. He drinks the last of his orange juice.

Bakura picks up on his hesitation. “It’s okay for them to see you and for you to interact with them when they come. As I said, you’re not a hostage here.” He grins, fleeting and comforting. “We just have to keep you hidden from stray tourists. We don’t need them running their mouths out there, do we?”

There’s a calculating look on Bakura’s face, before that softens too.

“You don’t have to tell them who’s your parent, either.”

Bakura tackles the head of the problem so easily that Ryou wonders if he knows. If, perhaps, for some reason, his sister told him about them.

Ryou can’t wrap his head around that dizzying thought, though, so he focuses on any of the others he has. Like the way Bakura frunces his lips, as if he thought he’s not good at being reassuring, when in reality he’s doing wonders to assuage the knot in Ryou’s stomach with just a couple of sentences.

“They understand not wanting to be exposed,” Bakura is saying. “Some just plain dislike their parents, as they should.”

Ryou smiles at that. He’s only ever met another set of demigods besides himself and his sister—Seto, Kisara’s fiancé, and Mokuba, his little brother, both children of Athena—but he’s heard the tales, knows the gods are very detached from their offsprings.

He can admit he’s excited to finally meet more people like them, but he’s nervous, too: while his friends had reacted well to both godly parents he and Kisara share—which is one of the main reasons Seto and his sister are engaged at all—he’s also been told not everyone is like that once they know who Ryou’s father is.

“You don’t have to worry about the monsters, either,” Bakura tells him. “The village is protected like your castle and everything a mile radius is.”

That is, honestly, a relief. It’s bad enough that the King will throw a fit because the Jewel disappeared. That combined with being a child of the Big Three makes him a trouble magnet, more so than the regular demigod. The last thing he wants is to put innocent people in danger just because a monster caught wind of his scent from miles away.

“You’re also free to roam the place, y’know,” Bakura adds. “The house is safe, and everyone currently staying knows you’re here for protection. They shouldn’t open their mouth if they cherish their life.”

That amuses Ryou. It’s a little rough but he keeps quiet. Oddly enough, it reminds him of Seto and his peculiar sense of humor, and that alone soothes the last of his unease. Bakura is a bit like him, Ryou thinks, and is proven right when the line of Bakura’s shoulders eases in a way that tells him he’s glad Ryou didn’t take it the wrong way.

Ryou thinks he’s starting to understand this man a bit more. He’s glad about it, too, because they’re going to be spending a lot of time together for a while, it seems.

Bakura tilts his head thoughtfully. It reminds Ryou of a bird, but he doesn’t think Bakura will appreciate the comparison so he keeps it to himself and schools his expression so that his amusement doesn’t show.

“Your cloak is a bit fancy, but it’s the standard black,” he muses with a frown. “Your hair, though…”

Ah, yes. His white, long hair. The length isn’t as pressing, but if Ryou wants to go unnoticed, he really needs to do something about the color since the only people in the kingdom with hair this white are the ones with royal blood.

“Well, Mai can help.” Bakura decides. “If we change the color we can also sneak you into the village if you get fed up with being inside.”

“Mai?” Ryou asks.

“You’ll meet her soon,” Bakura waves a dismissive hand. “For now, you can use the backyard or sit on the front porch,” he muses. “Though only in the mornings and evenings.”

Ryou nods. That makes perfect sense. “So that I don’t risk being seen.”

“That,” Bakura agrees, and an amused tilt touches the corner of his mouth. He stands and beckons Ryou to the window over by the sink. A small flower pot keeps the curtain covering it in place, and Bakura moves it to the side and opens the curtain at an angle so the sun doesn’t hit Ryou square in the face. “And also because the weather ain’t too kind here, as you can see. We have a bit of a dry spell.”

That’s an understatement. As far as Ryou can see, there’s only arid land. There’s no vegetation, the sky is clear of clouds, and the sun is harsh and unforgiving from the warmth Ryou can feel through the glass. It’s the total opposite to what he’s used to that he wonders for a moment if someone angered Lord Apollo or if they offended Lady Demeter, for it to be like this when the capital is filled with greens as far as Ryou knows.

“Oh, wow,” Ryou mutters.

Bakura huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. The last place anyone would think to look for the prince, huh?”

Ryou laughs, but he goes about his day full of thoughts and decisions to make.

* * *

It’s a few days later when, after debating with himself, he decides to be honest about that matter.

Kisara wouldn’t have sent him away without weighing down the pros and cons as well, right?

“You do realize that it won’t be like this forever, right?” Ryou tells Bakura when they’re alone in the kitchen.

It’s lunch time, just the two of them since Amane is out on the market with Mai. Bakura is cutting some fruit for them to snack on after begrudgingly telling Ryou he had gotten it for free when he helped someone set up their stand.

Bakura frowns. “What do you mean?”

Ryou bites his lip. As lost in his thoughts looking for the proper words as he is, he doesn’t notice Bakura staring at his mouth, or the way his eyes snap up the moment Ryou gives a decisive nod.

“I bring new beginnings wherever I go,” Ryou settles for. “It won’t be long until your land starts prospering, now that I’m here.”

Bakura watches him but doesn’t say anything, giving Ryou room to talk.

“I have a good grip on my powers,” Ryou assures. He stands, walks towards the withered bud resting by the window. He barely touches it with a fingertip when green starts to overtake the gloom brown around its base, filling up the stem, turning dry, brittle leaves into soft green things. “But life, that’s a side effect of my birth.”

Bakura taps his fingers against the table. “My brain thinks that what you’re showing me is good, but my instincts don’t like the way you’re making it sound so ominous,” he says at last. “What’s up with that?” Bakura asks. “Isn’t that actually good for the village?”

“It’s good,” Ryou says earnestly. “Gods know it is. I always see my powers as a blessing.”

“Then,” Bakura asks again, “what’s the matter?”

Ryou lets out a breath of frustration. “What do you think will happen when your people go out one morning and find their front yard has grown grass? Or when the stumps outside are suddenly full-grown trees?”

A heavy silence settles between them. Half of Ryou thinks Bakura’s regretting having accepted this job, while the other part is viciously wishing Kisara was there right now so he could scold her for putting this kind of responsibility over someone without properly informing them first what they were getting into.

He’s growing anxious when suddenly Bakura bursts out laughing. It starts with a snort that promptly escalates into full-blown laughter, which surprises Ryou enough to throw him out of his emotional turmoil for a moment.

“Are you always this dramatic?” Bakura asks as he wipes his eyes. “Are _all_ rich people like this?”

Ryou, who has been staring worriedly at Bakura up until then, grows immediately defensive.

Bakura sees Ryou’s scowl and starts talking before he can answer. “Princeling,” Bakura raises his hands, trying to appease him.

He’s still laughing, even if he’s not. His eyes are joyous and bright, and it’s clear he’s enjoying himself. This close, Ryou can see they’re even lovelier than what he first thought, their color a deep garnet, sweet as red wine.

“Princeling,” Bakura repeats. “I think you’re missing something important.”

“And what would that be?” Ryou asks warily.

He’s not pouting. No matter what the voice at the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Kisara says. Pouting is unbecoming of a prince.

Bakura stands from his chair and reaches forward. His fingers wrap around Ryou’s arm, gentle but firm, and steers him away from the now ripe-with-life plant.

They sit facing each other, but Bakura doesn’t let go of Ryou. His hand slides down Ryou’s arm until he’s holding him by the wrist. It soothes the twinge of humiliation in the pit of Ryou’s stomach; joy is a good look on Bakura, he won’t deny it, even if he still doesn’t know what’s going on.

“This is a merchant village,” Bakura repeats what he said earlier, once he’s calmed down. “Protected with magic to keep the demigods living here safe.”

Ryou nods with a frown.

“People come and go all the time,” Bakura looks at Ryou meaningfully. “Who do you think are the ones that stay?”

It only takes him a moment to understand this time.

He’s mortified, but his insides settle. Ryou closes his eyes and takes a deep breath that leaves him in a huffed laugh.

_Oh._

“People like us.”

People that understand. People that don’t bat an eye at sudden weirdness because they know the gods.

“It’s been a while since we last had someone who could make it green, sure, but not that long that they have forgotten.”

Bakura grins, and Ryou feels like he can breathe.

* * *

Ryou acclimatizes himself.

He doesn’t get any special treatment just because he’s the prince, but it doesn’t matter anyway because people around here are friendly and kind, which is particularly liberating. Ryou doesn’t get coddled, but there are no ridiculous expectations set on his shoulders either.

He gets to meet Bakura’s little sister. She’s the splitting image of her brother, down to her short, light-gray hair and tan skin. Except that where Bakura wears frowns and scowls like a second skin, Amane is all bright wide eyes and sweet smiles. She’s seven, and she loves reading about constellations and wearing long-sleeved dresses. She has a collection of ribbons to keep her hair away from her face, and Ryou learns her favorite is a deep blue that Bakura got her at the market a while ago.

He also meets Mai, Amane’s governess and self-defense teacher. She’s a daughter of Aphrodite and she’s a tough cookie. Ryou immediately likes her.

“Not bad,” Mai grins up at him. There’s dirt on her face and her hair is in every which way, but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Ryou now knows, she doesn’t care at all.

Ryou returns the smile from his place on top of her. They’re both panting slightly, and the sun is harsh against his back and every bit of skin they’re showing, but the hand holding the dagger pressed to her throat is as steady as ever.

“Gods above,” Malik, a son of Nemesis and Bakura’s best friend, says from the sidelines. He sounds particularly delighted. “They’re gonna get along like a house on fire.”

“‘Grats on the new sparring partner, sis!” Ryuuji, Mai’s younger brother, pipes in.

Bakura groans, as if he hadn’t been the one to steer them towards the backyard the moment Mai showed up.

* * *

Bakura leaves every day after breakfast to help around the village, comes in time for lunch, and leaves again to train with the demigods that don’t spar with Mai. On the days Mai doesn’t come around, Bakura tells them to stay out of trouble and asks Ryou to keep an eye on his sister.

Ryou has seen Amane flip someone twice her size over her shoulder, but he still smiles at Bakura, fondly exasperated, and assents, because he knows what Bakura is really asking of him.

Children must be protected at all costs, and that involves letting them be children as much as possible, so they settle into a routine. Bakura eats each meal with them—the demigods living at the house—and Ryou and Amane choose something to do if Mai isn’t around that day: be it painting or reading or playing an instrument in the living room with whoever is around as an audience, or sometimes even joining in.

Often, Bakura talks about his day, about what he did or saw or heard; he doesn’t look the type to, but once in a while even their fearless leader indulges in gossipy tales. A few times they even sneak Ryou out into the village to explore, with help of Mai and her powers.

He is particularly fond of all the secret places Bakura takes him to watch the sunset at.

Amane tells him stories about this little village that she and her brother love so much—about the people who have lived there for years; about the greatest food around; about the best stalls in the marketplace and what they have—and slowly but surely, Ryou falls in love with it too.

(But falling in love with something new cannot stop the outbursts of longing something you already loved leaves behind, even if you feel safer and more welcomed than you have in years now.)

* * *

Ryou wakes up one morning to Amane staring at him.

She blinks owlishly, her face blank but also conveying the curious wonder only a child can bear.

It’s too early to be a functioning adult, and so Ryou does what any normal person would first thing in the morning after finding someone has been watching them sleep.

He burrows under the covers with a content sigh, and with his free hand he unceremoniously—but gently—shoves her face away.

He smiles when it gains him a squeal and childish laughter.

“Good morning, Mane.”

“Mornin’ Ry,” Amane says, her voice melodious and sweet. “Kura sent Mai with creampuffs. Come down for breakfast.”

Ryou smiles. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Amane beams before dashing out the door, closing it as she passes by.

Ryou stares at the empty space she leaves behind for a long moment. He takes a deep breath that turns into a yawn midway through. He stretches, joints popping pleasurably.

He sits on his bed and stares at his socked feet: they’re blue and have purple smiley skulls on them. When Ryou had asked him on the first day, Bakura just grinned and shrugged, said _my sister_ as if that explained everything. Ryou has half the spirit to smile about it now: after meeting Amane, it really does.

It inevitably makes him think of his own sister, and his heart aches in turn. He misses her so much. After half a lifetime of being just the two of them against the world, of course he does.

He wonders what she’s doing right now, how she is. He only hopes she’s taking care of herself and not neglecting her health on her quest for justice; she tends to forget herself when she hyper-focuses on something.

Deep down, he will admit, he’s worried. Kisara is a strong woman, but grudges are the downfall of people like them.

 _It’s a good thing Seto’s with her,_ he thinks. Not because he’s any better, gods, Ryou snorts at just the notion. But because it means _Mokuba_ is there.

 _He_ will make sure they both stay in one piece. He will remind them of what they’re actually fighting for in Ryou’s absence.

With that in mind, he gets up, newly energized. He even manages a small smile.

The pang of loneliness and worry finally ebbs away. Even if a little, even for a moment.

* * *

Bakura corners him in the living room one day.

“What’s up with you?” He says with furrowed brows.

Ryou tilts his head. “Huh?”

“You’ve been sulking,” Bakura accuses.

Ryou laughs. “What?”

Bakura huffs out a breath that blows away his bangs.

“You’ve been quiet lately. You keep reaching for your neck and then stopping midway.” Bakura’s frown deepens. “Does your throat hurt?” He squints, “Are you getting sick?”

Despite everything, Ryou smiles. 

“What’s that Mai says about you all the time?” Ryou ponders, tapping his cheek with a finger. “Ah, yes,” he snaps his fingers. “You’re such a mother-hen.”

“Princeling, I need to know these things,” Bakura sounds exasperated, but his eyes are soft around the corners. “Which head do you think your sister’s gonna want on a pike if something happens to you?”

Ryou laughs. “Please,” he says, “Kissy has a lot more taste than that. If anything, she would have it on a silver platter.”

“Of course she would,” Bakura deadpans.

Ryou giggles. Bakura smiles, but soon he’s back to being serious.

Ryou’s smile fades. He looks down at his lap, where the open book he had been reading stares back at him. He reaches for his neck again, almost on instinct.

“There used to be a necklace here,” his fingers touch his collarbone absently. “It was a gift from my parents. The King took it away as punishment for not doing as told, a few days before you found me.”

Bakura frowns at the mention of a punishment but doesn’t say anything, sensing Ryou isn’t quite done. He has gotten so good at reading Ryou that sometimes Ryou wonders if that’s another one of his powers, or if he's simply that much of an open book to him.

“I’ve had it since I was a kid,” Ryou offers him a feeble smile that falters on his next breath. “It just—it’s always been there, you know? And that was...” he trails off, but Bakura _knows._

“It was a steady presence, something that grounded you,” he says slowly. “And now you’re in a new place, so many things are changing, and the one thing that never fails to bring you comfort is not there.”

Ryou feels vulnerable, cracked open. But really, he shouldn’t be. Bakura’s proven all throughout Ryou’s stay to be a very attentive person. He hides behind a grumpy demeanor most of the time, when in reality he’s very caring and sweet.

“Yes,” he says softly. “Exactly that.”

“Okay,” Bakura nods to himself. Ryou knows, because he’s not looking at him, and he has the same calculating look he gets whenever he’s strategizing: whether it be training regimes for them, or how he will go about making dinner that night.

Bakura sits down next to Ryou and pulls him into a hug.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, sitting in a reading nook hidden behind the bookshelves, Bakura hugging him close.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?”

This is the first time Mai has looked so serious, the scissors on her hand just adding to the effect. She’s staring at Ryou through the mirror in front of him and he can feel the warmth of her free hand seeping through his shirt where she set it on his shoulder in support, gentle but firm.

“Yes,” Ryou smiles.

“Okay,” she accepts. “Just remember, if you don’t like it, I can always grow it back for you.”

She looks so earnest, in her own somber-frown way, that Ryou can’t help the wave of affection pulsing through his veins.

“Did I ever tell you why I wanted to cut it out?” He asks after she’s dampened his hair.

“No,” Mai says, holding a lock between her fingers. “You only said you’ve never done it because when you were a kid the Queen used to braid it, and your sister used to weave flowers into it.”

The snip-snip of the scissors is a cathartic sound, in Ryou’s opinion.

“You think this is rather abrupt,” Ryou smiles.

“Maybe,” Mai concedes. “But I also think that you should do what makes you feel better.”

There’s a lull in conversation in which Mai just works. Every once in a while, she dampens Ryou’s hair again.

“The King, he likes–” Ryou clears his throat. “Liked. He liked to run his fingers through it.”

He focuses on a random spot at the upper corner of the mirror. The sounds mute. Ryou thinks Mai also slows down on her pace.

“He would often make me sit on his lap at mealtimes so he could pet it,” Ryou recounts. “Most of the time, he would do it when Kisara’s fiancé was around with his entourage, because that meant she couldn’t lash out or else Seto’s father would call off the engagement.”

“And the other King never said anything?” Mai makes a face, like she already knows the answer. “Didn’t he find it strange?”

Ryou laughs flatly. “Trust me, he didn’t have any objections.” He sighs. “So the King would keep me close, like he was trying to prove some point.”

 _Like I was a possession,_ he doesn’t say.

Mai’s hand returns to his shoulder, squeezes it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Mai says, her voice gentle. There’s no judgement in her words and her tone holds no pity. Ryou loves her for that—he knew she would understand. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“Perhaps,” he concedes. _We’re demigods_ , he thinks. _Since when do we get what we deserve?_ “But it’s alright.”

It isn’t. Sometimes Ryou can still feel his fingers in his scalp, twirling in his ponytail, and the uncovered skin at the back of his neck crawls. Sometimes, when he forgets himself and sits on the armrest of the couch, the sensation is so familiar he still thinks he’s in that throne room—before Bakura tugs at his arm and makes him tumble next to him with a laugh, reminds him, inadvertently, that the last thing he ever did worth noticing in that castle was standing up for himself.

Even if it’s devastating not having the necklace his parents gave him—the one his mama told him mom grew on her favorite garden, the garden his dad made especially for her—it’s worth it for the look on the King’s face when Ryou wrenched those dirty hands off his hips.

So it’s not alright. It’s, as most people in his life nowadays would say, fucked up. But Ryou is working through it, with everyone’s help, and that’s what matters.

“You’re gonna be the most stylish prince this kingdom has ever seen,” Mai promises with a decisive nod, getting to work, and Ryou laughs, joyful and carefree.

That is another thing he didn’t have before, the laugh. Kisara has always been a source of happiness, but there weren't many reasons to laugh in Ryou’s life before he got here.

“Alright,” Mai says once she’s done.

Ryou looks at the person in the mirror and thinks, _yes, this is how it has to be._

“Yo, peacock, have you se–”

Bakura’s voice has them turning towards the open door. They find him frozen under the threshold.

“Uhm,” he says eloquently, looking straight at Ryou.

Looking at his hair.

“Your...” Bakura trails off. Ryou gives him a small smile. “You look–”

Ryou touches his hair hesitantly. His snow white hair, formerly long and suffocating, now barely reaches his shoulders, similarly to the way Bakura’s and Amane’s do.

It _looks_ good, he knows that. It’s nothing fancy, but Ryou loves the way Mai styled it. That’s what matters, right? Nothing Bakura says or does will change the way Ryou feels about it, that’s a fact.

Then why does he feel so expectant?

Ryou watches Bakura’s throat bob, up and down.

“It looks great,” he finally says, looking a little dazed. “You look—yeah, you look great.”

Warmth erupts from Ryou’s chest. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Oh for the love of–” Mai mutters under her breath. “I take it the food is ready?”

Her voice breaks the spell. They both snap their heads up and look at her. Ryou can feel his cheeks growing warm.

“Uhm—yeah. The food is, uh, ready,” Bakura stammers. He then scowls at himself. “Come down if you’re done.”

He shakes his head and leaves the way he came.

Mai and Ryou look at each other.

They laugh.

* * *

“Oh, good,” says Bakura when he catches him standing by the door. He gestures to the empty chair next to him, what they have come to label as Ryou’s Seat. “Sit.”

He raises an eyebrow petulantly. Earlier, they had been too focused on Ryou’s new look to say anything else, but if Bakura thinks he can get away with bossing him around without preamble and in front of all their friends, he’s in for a surprise.

Ryou _might_ be a little spoiled.

Bakura sighs and rolls his eyes fondly. “I’m home.”

The corners of his lips twitch upwards. Okay. Maybe he is more than a little spoiled.

“Welcome back,” Ryou says warmly.

“ _T’es si amoureux, voleur?_ ” Malik grins, and Bakura glares at him.

Ryou loves French. He would like to learn it some day. For now he’ll have to content himself knowing that Malik is teasing Bakura through body language alone.

“Evenin’ your highness,” Kek greets him with a nod, deciding to ignore his fiancé and Bakura. “Love the hair.”

Ryuuji coos. “You look so cute.”

“Of course he does,” Mai sniffs. “I did it myself.”

Ryou touches it out of reflex. He gives them a pleased smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Ooh,” Malik lights up. He looks from Ryou to Bakura. “Now you match!”

Bakura huffs out a breath that could easily pass as a laugh. He looks at Ryou, “Guess we do, huh?”

Ryou beams.

After dinner, he and Ryou sit on the porch in comfortable silence.

The sky is clear and the full moon illuminates the patio enough that they don’t need any lanterns outside, but the air tastes like a storm is on its way. It makes him happy; that will help the baby sprouts grow.

“I got you a gift,” Bakura says after a while.

“Oh,” Ryou says softly. He smiles. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Bakura taps his fingers on his thigh nervously, before deciding to go for it. He pulls out a small, dark wooden box from his pocket and hands it to Ryou, gesturing with a small nod to open it.

It’s a ring. Silver in color, two snakes entwined with an emerald encrusted between their tails, the exact same shade of Ryou’s eyes.

“I know it’s not your necklace,” Bakura starts. “And it will never replace it. But I thought that maybe it would help to reconcile all the new things going on in your life now, make it easier.” He licks his lips nervously. “You don’t have to wear it–”

“I love it.”

Ryou’s voice is softer than expected, even to his own ears. But it’s enough to pull Bakura out of his rambling, and possibly soothe him as well.

“Yeah?” Bakura says softly.

He does. Ryou absolutely loves it.

“Yeah,” Ryou repeats, smiling up at him with crinkled eyes. He lifts the box. “You wanna do the honors?”

Bakura slips the ring into his finger. It feels right.

* * *

“Why haven't you asked me about my divine descendance?” Ryou asks one calm evening as they sit on the deck. He gives half the clementine he’s just finished peeling to Bakura, who’s beside him, laying on his side and resting his weight on an elbow.

It’s just the two of them right now: Malik and Kek are out on a date, while Mai and Amane and Ryuuji have a sleepover at Mai’s place.

It’s quiet. The sun is slowly going down, the beginnings of the cool night a welcomed balm after a long day. It’s getting better each time; Ryou’s presence has been influencing the village and altering the state it had been in.

Bakura hums. He plops a slice into his mouth, still staring at the sun setting on the horizon. “Would you have answered?”

Ryou looks down at the peel in his lap. Would he?

“You weren’t ready,” Bakura answers for him. “I assumed that if you wanted to tell me, you would. At some point. You didn’t need me controlling your pace.”

Bakura shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal. Ryou is starting to believe that maybe it isn’t.

“And you weren’t curious?”

Bakura looks him in the eye, the angle perfect enough that all he has to do is lift his head.

“To be completely honest,” he says, “I kinda figured it out when you befriended Mai.”

Ryou raises his eyebrows in surprise. “How so?”

Bakura grins. “You forgot to close your door one night. I was about to do it, actually, when I saw you walk into your closet and never come out. That’s when I knew you had shadow-traveled to her house.”

Ryou feels his heart skip a beat. He remembers that, because he’s only done it once: when he had traveled back and forth from Mai’s bathroom to his room because he had forgotten his toiletries.

 _Dear Hades._ That was months ago!

But Bakura isn’t freaking out, and his aura is as pure as it always is. The edges are a calm, warm color that soothes his panic before it even begins.

“And you don’t mind?” Ryou has to ask. 

“Not really,” Bakura says genuinely, smiling sideways. “We’re not our parents, nor what we inherited from them, Princeling. Their influence shouldn’t have to loom over our shoulders for the rest of our lives just because some people condemn it or want to use it to their advantage.”

That hits him more than anything.

o.O.o

Once upon a time, two deities fell in love with the same mortal.

She had long hair, white as snow, and a smile that illuminated any room she walked into. She was young and full of life and her soul was as bright as a star to the point it caught the attention of two gods that had only loved each other for eons.

And so they courted her, until she fell in love with them, too.

From their love two offsprings were born: a leader for a daughter, and a lionheart for a son.

Both with their father’s powers coupled with their mother’s magic and their mama’s heart. Both had the ability to create life, an affinity for darkness and control over the undead.

But the boy—the boy had a special talent, for he could summon and manipulate at will all precious metals and jewels on earth.

He cherished his gift when he was a child. It all changed when his mama died.

He learned the hard way Gods don’t get involved in earthly affairs.

o.O.o

For a long time, Ryou believed all there was to him is the precious gems he can create, the political power it brings to the kingdom, the economical status it puts them in.

Kisara did her best to change that perception Ryou had of himself. But there was only so much she could do, after their mother’s distant relative took over the throne.

After all, it was Ryou’s powers that kept her safe, since they had been so young.

He will never resent his sister, when she’s only ever done the same; everything in her power to protect him. And he still feels affection for his parents, even though they never did anything to get them out of that situation.

Bakura’s words may not change the past, but in the great scheme of things, they still rattle something deep inside Ryou’s chest. Cement that little thought that has been echoing around his head in the past few months.

So when he leans forward, what his held breath really means is _I would like to stay._

And when Bakura does the same to press their lips together, he knows he means _please never leave._

**Author's Note:**

> And there’s no angst bc Bakura turned down the money but he still got it bc Kisara wasn’t gonna let her brother live without money <3
> 
> Tbh I liked this au a lot so I might expand on it later on. :D
> 
> Basically Bakura is Luke if you-know-who hadn’t Pied Piper-ed him and all bad things hadn’t happened. Also; I know they were almost always eating something but like. I couldn’t help myself. Food is a love language for me and what better than for them eating together?
> 
> Ngl, engaged!eclipse snuck up on me but I’m not mad about it. 6( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
> 
> Anyway!!
> 
>  **[Demigods](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Demigod_Abilities):**  
>  _Children of Hades_  
>  Kisara  
> Ryou  
> — Both have all the powers a child of Hades could have, but [ferrokinesis](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Ferrokinesis) (and [necromancy](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Necromancy_\(Kane_Chronicles\)), though we don’t use it here) is predominant in Ryou.  
>  _Children of Hermes_  
>  Bakura  
> Amane  
>  _Children of Athena_ (mentioned)  
> Seto  
> Mokuba  
>  _Children of Aphrodite_  
>  Mai  
> Otogi  
>  _Children of Ares_ (for context)  
> Kek  
>  _Children of Nemesis_  
>  Malik
> 
> **Vocab**  
> [Dreams](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Dreams)  
> [Clauditiskinesis](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Clauditiskinesis)  
> [Shadow-travel](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Shadow_Travel)  
> [Big Three](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Big_Three)  
> Children of Hades’ [Fatal Flaw](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Fatal_Flaw): holding grudges.  
>  _T’es si amoureux, voleur?_ : That in love, thief?  
> (thank u mills I’d die for u ♡)  
> [Ryou’s ring](https://www.jewlr.com/products/JWL0440/sterling-silver-guardian-snake-ring-with-emerald-simulated-stone?shopfeed=1&s1=S05EMER&sku=SS&gclid=CjwKCAiAudD_BRBXEiwAudakXyQFULeGWECHSW3KCnJmhjRJwfJtGXNKBdqwBP-SscBJsbiuppiogxoCoFsQAvD_BwE) (no inscription (yet))
> 
> Also, in case it wasn’t obvious, Ryou and Kisara’s mom was in a loving relationship with Hades and Persephone, and that’s why they’re children of Hades but Ryou (and Kisara) has powers similar to what children of Demeter do, since Persephone is the Goddess of Spring.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. ♡ I certainly had fun writing it!


End file.
